


a fever you can't sweat out

by jupiterrism



Category: Bumilangit Cinematic Universe, Gundala (2019)
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sick Character, awang and godam are two different people thats what weve established, awang hasnt made his first move on sancaka, i dunno man this shit is shitty, i hope this is fluffy enough cs i cant write angst, i write this instead of grading my reports, sick sancaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 07:10:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21011810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterrism/pseuds/jupiterrism
Summary: As Sancaka watches Godam’s retreating back slipping out of his room, he finds that he doesn’t mind being babied by Godam.





	a fever you can't sweat out

It’s something after midnight when Sancaka hears the front door of his ratty apartment swings open. He doesn’t lift his head from the circuit board he’s currently dissecting - the heavy steps already give it away.

“Kok lo belum tidur?” Awang calls out from behind him, throwing his denim jacket to the couch, before he plops down on it.

“Ngga bisa tidur,” Sancaka shrugs a shoulder before abandoning his small project in favor of sitting down next to Awang. Their shoulders are close enough, but not brushing. Awang is warm next to him. Sancaka shudders from it.

They don’t live together, no. It’s just his habit of leaving his front door unlocked after he came to an understanding with the thugs in the market. Sancaka no longer has to avoid them - the thugs are the one who steer clear from him. And it’s Awang. The bastard just keeps coming to his place uninvited.

“Gimana kerjaan hari ini?” For all Sancaka knows, Awang works as a driver for a factory but he works at weird hours. As weird as it gets for a mere driver.

“Ya gitu, ngga ada yang asik.” With a heavy sigh, Awang leans back against the headrest. Sancaka watches him from the corner of his eyes, already reaching out to turn his TV on. It buzzes for a second before displaying a clear screen. He doesn’t know what the movie is about, but he knows that Awang needs noises to lull him to sleep.

Sancaka, too, feels his eyelids start to droop close. He has a bed inside, but Awang is too warm against him. Sleep washes over him as soon as he shuts his eyes.

.&.

Sancaka wakes up without a crick on his neck, which is weird, because everytime he falls asleep on his couch, his neck and back are all tense. He’s in his room and someone is sitting on his bed. Sancaka rolls over sluggishly to muffle a groan, glancing sideways to deliver some sort of bleary glare.

“Jangan bilang kamu yang gendong aku masuk kamar.” He aims for the grumpiest tone he could muster. He’s a grown-up man, damn it. He doesn’t need to be babied.

“Awang yang pengen gendong kamu ke kamar, tapi dia ngga kuat. Jadi saya yang bantuin dia.” Sancaka can catch the way the figure next to him shrug his shoulder and that voice alone causes Sancaka groan again.

“Godam.” Sancaka scrubs a hand over his face, trying to hide the way his face is flushed red because... “Kamu juga ya, yang ngelepasin kaos saya?”

Godam offers him something that resembles a sheepish grin, tipping one wide shoulder up. “Awang yang minta. Kata dia, kamu selalu tidur ngga pakai baju.”

At that, Sancaka could only flop uselessly on the bed, the tip of his ears burning. Thank the universe he still have his pants on. Sancaka sits up gingerly, his muscles are all aching in a way that brings him to grimace. It takes him a considerably long time to heal from the brunt he took from a fight with thugs earlier this week.

The man next to him eyes him with an unnervingly sharp gaze, reaching out to brush his hand over Sancaka’s forehead. “Muka kamu merah, dahi kamu panas juga. Kamu sakit?”

That explains why his healing factor is acting up. Sancaka shrugs both shoulders, not quite lucid yet. Godam’s hand is cold and he couldn’t help but leaning into the touch. Godam makes an interesting noise next to him and Sancaka has to bite back a disappointed groan as Godam withdraws his hand.

“Saya masakin sesuatu, ya? Pasti kamu laper.” Godam pauses, head tilted to a side as his eyes glaze over. Sancaka watches him with amusement - that look means he’s talking to Awang and that has turned to something of an entertainment for Sancaka. “Awang bilang kamu suka nasi goreng? Dia pengen masakin kamu tapi saya tahu dia ngga bisa masak.” With a lopsided smirk laced with mirth, Godam leaves with a faint brush of his hand against Sancaka’s cheek.

As Sancaka flops back to the bed, he realizes that Godam is not wearing Awang’s clothes from last night. As he burrows himself to his (not-so) soft bed and pillow, he lets the sound of Godam humming and the smell of sauteed garlic lull him to sleep. He doesn’t know whether Godam can cook or not.

.&.

Sancaka startles awake after a moment, a shove on his shoulder makes him jerk up from his sleep. He’s immediately rewarded with a dizzying pain, his vision momentarily spins and he groans, dropping his head in his hands.

“Lo beneran sakit, San?” He could hear Awang next to him, voice gruff but he can detect the undertone of worry there. Awang gingerly puts a plate of aromatic smelling fried rice next to him and he reaches out to brush his hand against Sancaka’s cheek.

“Panas banget. Kenapa lo ngga bilang kalo lo sakit?” Awang berates him with frantic voice, already stepping out of his room to rummage for something in his living room. His hand is warm, in contrast to Godam’s. Sancaka feels himself enjoying their touches.

His head is throbbing too much for him to think about that.

Sancaka is already curled up into a ball in his bed, ignoring the cooling fried rice next to him, as Awang steps into the room. He has a glass of water and a painkiller in his hands.

“Lo bakal bikin Godam sedih kalo lo ngga mau makan nasi goreng bikinan dia.” Awang sets the glass and the medicine on the floor before nudging Sancaka awake. He pauses for a moment, shrugging a shoulder after. “Godam bilang dia mau bikinin lo bubur kalo lo ngga bisa makan nasi goreng. Tenggorokan lo sakit ga?”

Sancaka, who is slowly sitting up, narrows his eyes at Awang before shaking his head. “Cuma pusing sama demam. Paling nanti malem sembuh.” His hands are shaky as he reach out for the fried rice, already taking a spoonful of it.

Flavor bursts in his tongue and Sancaka couldn’t help but shoot Awang a surprised look. Catching Sancaka’s stare, Awang just shrugs his shoulder. “Kayanya Godam masukin narkoba ke nasi goreng lo, deh. Atau dia nambahin sesuatu dari dunianya dia.” Sometimes it’s easy to forgot that Godam isn’t exactly human. He’s an alien... or some sorts. Only Nani understands Godam’s explanation the first time he opened up. The rest could only look confused.

Sancaka takes another bite, eyes fluttering close at the delectable taste. He might be making some noises because he catches Awang staring at him with unreadable gaze.

“Lo makan kaya lagi bikin film porno, tau ga.” Sancaka chokes on his fried rice, but he manages to shoot Awang a wounded look as he pats his own chest.

“Brengsek, kamu.” Awang just gives him a cheeky grin before he hands him the water and medicine. “Minum ini, biar cepet sembuh. Lucu banget, pahlawan super kok bisa sakit.”

Sancaka ignores him in favor to down the medicine, washing the bitter taste down with the refreshing water. He sets the empty glass aside, levelling Awang a look.

“Makasih, ya.” Awang opens his mouth, but Sancaka waves him off. “Buat Godam, bukan buat kamu. ‘Kan Godam yang bikinin aku nasi goreng.”

Awang just shoots him a dirty look, rolling his eyes at him, before stomping out of the room. Sancaka just watches him with a giggle (a giggle! you sound like a teenager in love, San), he lets the painkiller tugs him to sleep once again.

.&.

When he wakes up, it’s evening already, meaning he has to get up and go to work. Sancaka groans at that, flopping an arm over his face.

Godam peeks his head in at the sound and he flashes Sancaka a warm smile, far too fond to Sancaka’s liking. He steps into the room, dressed in... Sancaka honestly doesn’t understand Godam’s style.

“Sudah sembuh?” With two lengthy strides, he gets to Sancaka’s bed and already has a hand on his face. Broad palm is cupping his cheek, and Sancaka couldn’t help but nuzzle into his palm. He peers up, stifling a chuckle at he catches Godam’s wide-eyed look. He’s also blushing, much to Sancaka’s amusement.

“Makasih, ya, sudah bikinin saya nasi goreng. Enak banget.” Sancaka pauses, because Godam is still touching his cheek. “Kamu ngga nambahin macem-macem di nasi goreng saya, ‘kan?” In front of him, Godam makes a noise in offence.

“Awang suka ngawur kalau bercanda, emang.” Godam brushes Sancaka’s sweaty locks off his face and makes to withdraw his hand. Sancaka grips his wrist, face devoid of any blush but the tip of his ears are bright red. His eyes are somewhere else, carefully avoiding Godam.

“Awang tadi ke pabrik kamu waktu kamu tidur. Minta izin ke bos kamu, biar kamu bisa istirahat malam ini.” Deliberately, Godam dislodge Sancaka’s grip from around his wrist only to lace their fingers together, much to Sancaka’s horror. He is sure he’s going to die in embarrassment and the knowing look Godam keeps shooting his way is too much.

“Sekarang dia lagi tidur, capek. Jadi saya yang jagain kamu sekarang.” His tone is soft, affectionate. Sancaka offers him a faint quirk of his lips, and he feels his heart leaps in his chest as Godam returns his smile.

“Nanti kalau butuh apa-apa panggil saya, ya. Jangan sungkan.” And with that, Godam makes his way out of his bedroom, not before brushing his knuckles down Sancaka’s cheek.

As Sancaka watches Godam’s retreating back slipping out of his room, he finds that he doesn’t mind being babied by Godam.

**Author's Note:**

> more fic! i don't know what this is, just, enjoy! and yes, the title is from p!atd's album, i'm a fan of them. i suck at making titles, tbh. also, the tags are also getting out of control.


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